Losing Grip
by Kathryne Buzolic
Summary: Kiara Bradley wasn't crazy. She knew that she wasn't. But after eight years in the psych ward, she was starting to doubt herself. After all, how else could she explain the second shadow that followed her around, or the blue phone box she kept seeing everywhere? Both of which only she seemed to see. Only crazy people see things like that. ...Right? Nine/OC Friendship


**Well, I can't believe I'm finally publishing this! I've been working on it for a few months now, and I'm finally confident enough to post it! Tell me what you think!**

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Smoke curled in the air, making a dark gray swirl in front of the group as they walked. The blonde at the head of the pack flicked her cigarette and glanced around, blue eyes darting to the club ahead. It was packed, as per usual on a Saturday night. They could all hear the music from there, the pounding of the bass, the faint melody of a loud voice screeching along with the tune, and the bright strobe lights flashed when the doors opened. The door slammed shut and took the music with it, leaving them with a faint thumping. Monica Giles looked back at her group of friends, raising a single perfect eyebrow. There was Alec Davis beside her, dark hair covering bright green eyes as he studied the ground, and his sister Cassidy, white blonde hair shining in the streetlights when she turned her head, looking around. In the back was Patrick Jones, scanning the street for his next one-night-stand, and then the girl next to him. It was obvious she didn't want to be there; her face was set in a scowl, and she glared at anyone who made eye-contact with her. But it wasn't really her choice.  
Kiara Bradley shifted from foot to foot, feeling Monica's eyes on her. Turning her gaze on her cousin, she tilted her head to the side.  
"Are you ever going to go in, or are you wasting our lives while you fantasize about that bartender from last night?" she asked, raising a dark eyebrow. Her voice, monotone and emotionless as usual, rang through the quiet street, and Cassidy giggled. Monica rolled her eyes, tossing her hair and turning around.  
"Let's go." she said, stalking to the entrance. Kiara snorted and looked at Patrick.  
"I think you almost made Ice Princess crack." he told her, grinning crookedly. Patrick, the only one out of the whole group that Kiara could actually tolerate, was always waiting for someone to get Monica to crack.  
"I'll do it eventually. Until then, let's go waste valuable time listening to that pop crap they play on the radio." Kiara muttered, trudging reluctantly to the club. "They group five boys together that can sing, give them a sucky song, and call them a hit. What a waste of talent." she said as they walked together, flipping her bangs out of her eyes.  
"Why do you hate them so much?" Patrick asked, sounding amused. She arched a brow.  
"I'm sorry, is there some way for me to like a group whose first song was about liking a girl with low self-esteem? My grasp on reality prevents me from finding that even mildly worthwhile." she replied, a bit of contempt creeping into her voice. He chuckled, opening the door for her and waiting for her to go inside.  
"And then we come here. The very meaning of worthlessness. It's just a pit for sexually frustrated nobodys who are too scared to actually get a life and have zero taste in music." Patrick said, eyes sparkling.  
"Exactly. Why am I here again? I could be out with people who actually have brains, yet I let you lot lead me here like cattle to the slaughter." Her pale face was disgusted as she observed the hoard of people clustered close together, making odd movements that apparently passed for dancing.  
"Because this is your first December out of the ward. You need to live a little." he called over the music, eyeing the scantily clad girls apprehensively.  
"So? What are you gonna do for my first New Years? Take me to a whorehouse and hope I meet someone nice?" she wondered, not looking impressed.  
"It's a thought."  
Rolling her eyes, she leaned against the wall closest to the door. She'd been in a…bad state…for eight years, and her "friends" (though she really considered them unfortunate acquaintances that needed a re-evaluation of life) had insisted on taking her out, giving her the experience of a regular life. As if a crowded club would make up for eight years in the mental ward of Royal Hope. It was pathetic, really. But, as her aunt had requested, she was making an effort, no matter how poor.  
"I'll at least get a shiny gold star for coming, right?" she asked Patrick over the music. He handed her a drink, which she glanced at before tossing on the ground.  
"Probably. You'll get a whole pack if you get pissed and take someone hot home with you." he responded, earning a scathing look.  
"As if I'd give any of society's pet dogs a chance." she said, sounding disgusted. "They live off of booze, women, and the crap stories they read in Wikipedia."  
"You're judgy tonight."  
"I'm always judgy. I just prefer to attempt politeness and mock you all in my head." she shot back, watching with distaste as a young man in a badly worn leather jacket eyed her hungrily.  
"I'll kill you in your sleep, you know!" she called to him. "I've been in the psych ward for over eight years!"  
He immediately retracted his gaze and Patrick laughed.  
"Bitch." he managed between laughs. "He was just looking."  
"Well he can look at someone who doesn't know what self worth is."  
As if on cue, Monica slid up to the greasy man, smirking wickedly.  
"Well, that takes care of that." Patrick remarked, eyebrows raised. "What happened to Rick?"  
"He cheated on her with that ginger waitress at the bakery and called her a heartless bitch with no sense of adventure. Funny. All this time I thought he was stupid, but he was dead on about her."  
"Don't be so hard on her."  
"Don't be so hard on the girl who single-handedly landed me in a mental hospital for my childhood. Right. What was I thinking, being so critical?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. He rolled his eyes, downing the drink in his hand.  
"She was just looking out for you and….." he trailed off, watching a curvy blonde saunter by.  
"Go on, be a whore." Kiara allowed, waving a hand. Patrick shot her a grin before following the girl, and she was left on her own.  
She looked around the place, face void of any emotion. It was pathetic, honestly, the way people threw themselves at each other, downing fruity drinks no one actually liked and dancing to music that was so homicidal-rage inducing it was surprising they weren't all in an asylum by now. After a few minutes, she rolled her eyes, turning around and opening the door. She went outside, already done with the "modern atmosphere."  
"I lasted for ten minutes. New record." she said to herself, shaking her head and walking in the direction of her flat.  
While she walked, she pulled out her old mp3, just so she appeared to be busy and would discourage anyone from trying to engage in conversation. She didn't care what these people had to say to her. It was all the same in the end. Yet it was oddly quiet around her. The people that had been crowding the streets just minutes before were gone. It was like they'd never been there. Not that Kiara cared too much. It just lowered the number of drunken idiots she'd have to deal with. The only thing that stood out besides the lack of people was the tall blue phone box on the sidewalk.

Boots clicking on the pavement, she glanced around to make sure no cars were coming before darting across the pavement. That was a little odd...She was in the busiest part of town on a Saturday night. Surely there'd be some stragglers...Frowning a bit, she pulled her jacket closer to her and quickened her pace, starting to feel uneasy despite her earlier claims of not caring. She was probably just being paranoid. Eight years in seclusion could do that to a person. ….Right?

Shaking her head, she ducked in an alley, which would be her first mistake of the night. It was a shortcut she'd often taken when she was younger and was running late for school. Nothing bad had ever happened to her there. After a while, however, she got a prickling feeling on the back of her neck, as if someone was watching her. Listening carefully, she could just barely hear the light footsteps following hers. Instead of turning around or even stopping, she simply quickened her pace, hoping to get back in the open. She was just being paranoid. It would happen. The doctors had warned her that she could experience slight paranoia for a few weeks, and so far nothing, but...It was starting to get eerie. Not turning around was her second mistake.

Kiara glanced around as she finally got free of the alley and took a deep breath. The night air was cold on her face, a bit calming in other circumstances, but in this one, she felt it freezing her. Like she couldn't move. Her fingers had long since gone numb, not that that mattered. Feeling the prickling feeling start up again, she resumed her quick gait, looking for a cab. She detested cabs, but it was really starting to bother her, how quiet and deserted everything was.

Finally, she couldn't take it, stopping in the middle of the street. The light echo of her footfalls stopped a few seconds later and she rolled her eyes, opening her mouth. The third mistake.

"Look. I don't know who you are, and I can't be bothered to care. So why don't you stop following me like some pathetic stalker and find someone else to bother?" she asked, turning around.

There was no one there. Empty space. There was no where that person could have hidden, and Kiara would have heard them move. Like she was talking to a ghost. Shaking her head in annoyance, she wheeled around again, resuming her walk back home.

For the first time, Kiara actually felt crazy. But she swore she felt someone watching her, and she _knew _she could hear someone behind her. But there was nothing. Empty air. Looking down at her feet, she frowned slightly, keeping her eyes on the shadows. There were two. One was hers, and the other one was oddly distorted, like it was caught between male, female, and some sort of strange animal. She couldn't have been imagining that. Because Kiara Bradley was not crazy. Despite what everyone said, she wasn't crazy.

…..So why did she have two shadows?

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**Aaaahhh. I remember a certain monster that made you count the shadows. I'm telling you right now, however, that it is NOT the Vashta Nerada. Is that how you spell it? Anyway, it's something quite different... This is just an intro chapter. In later chapters we'll find out more about Kiara and why she was locked up. (And why she's apparently not crazy...) Anyway! Doctor in the next chapter, I promise! A few things I'd like to address first...**

**This is set in 2012. Before Rose. Rose WILL make her debut, but just after I've established a good relationship for Kiara and the Doctor.**

**The thing Kiara says about 'five boys who can sing' IS talking about One Direction. However, I love them and mean no offense to anyone 1D fans. She's just not nice to them.**

**And finally, the mistakes! What could those mean? Well, I guess we'll have to find out!**

**Read and review, please! :)**


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